


On The Seduction Of Dwarves (And Others)

by disenchantedphoenix



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Bombur is unloved, Crack, Elves, In which bilbo tries to seduce everyone, M/M, Multi, and a pony, except for Bombur, im really sorry, like all the dwarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disenchantedphoenix/pseuds/disenchantedphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bilbo is a mini Jack Harkness. Which means he tries to seduce everyone. That's it. That's the plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Seduction Of Dwarves (And Others)

**Author's Note:**

> This follows the movie, because I really liked how it was done.  
> I think I got all the dwarves down personality wise, but feel free to yell at me if I got it wrong, and I will fix it.  
> Lets pretend for the sake of humor that Minty managed to stay with the company for the entire time. I guess she's a magic pony or something.

“Bilbo Baggins.”  
Kili paused a moment in restringing his bow. “Yes, we’ve met before,” he replied, confused. “I’m repairing these arrows; would you like to help?”  
“Of course,” he purred, sitting opposite the dwarf.  
A little later, Thorin heard snippets of their conversation as he passed by.  
“And that’s when I knew there had to be another way into the mountain!” said the enthusiastic voice of his youngest nephew.  
“Smart and sexy. Just the way I like,” the Hobbit responded.  
Thorin stopped in surprise. That was definitely not something he expected to hear. Was the Halfling really trying to seduce Kili? Sweet Durin. That was not something he wanted to hear. He hurried away. The looks the two exchanged at breakfast did not go unnoticed.

*** 

“Bilbo Baggins.”  
“Who else would you be?” Fili smiled at him. He was on watch while everyone else was asleep.  
Bilbo shrugged. “Depends on the night really. You into that kind of thing?”  
“What do you mean?” Fili stared at him.  
“Oh, you know.” He played with the dwarf’s moustache. “I could be a servant boy that needs to be punished. What ever you want.”  
Fili blinked. “I don’t understand.”  
Bilbo whispered something in his ear, and a slow smile spread across his face. “I think just a burglar will do.”  
Unknown to them, Thorin was very much awake and listening a ways to the side. Or rather, trying very hard not to listen. Apparently the Halfling was making it his personal mission to screw the entire line of Durin. What if he was next…  
Oh.  
Well.  
It certainly sounded like he had skill, considering Fili’s, er, noises.  
He rolled over and tried very hard to go back to sleep.

***

“I know who you are,” Dori replied gruffly, munching on an apple. He was obviously doing nothing, only staring into the distance. Bilbo sat down next to him, a little closer than usual. Dori scooted away. He scooted closer.  
“What in Durin’s name are you trying to do?” he asked exasperatedly. Suddenly, he realized Bilbo’s hand was inching up his leg. “What the-,” he jumped up fairly quickly and backed away. “Is there any particular reason why you want to act as my wife?”  
Bilbo shrugged. “Nope. Just a wim.”  
Dori stalked away muttering about the strange mating rituals of Hobbits.

***

“What? I wasn’t doing nothing. Did you just tell me your name?”  
Bilbo caught up to Nori on the outskirts of the camp, trying to hide the fact that he’d nicked another’s supplies.  
“I don’t think Thorin would be happy to hear about this,” Bilbo said, and the dwarf looked anxious. Then all at once the Hobbit was on him, one hand in his hair. “But I suppose I won’t tell him, on one condition.”  
Nori went surprising red in the face.  
“Tell him whatever you please. I will not fall victim to your tricks.” And he hurried away, leaving the smaller man behind.

***

By now, news of Bilbo’s exploits had swept through the company. The dwarves had mixed feelings about it; some avoided him at all costs, others…Not so much. It seemed as though the only one safe was Bifur, who swung his ax wildly if he so much as approached.   
Thorin kept quiet, never saying if he’d had a victim yet. But the others seemed to know, particularly Balin. He was getting very tired of those snide remarks slipped into every conversation. It wasn’t as if he cared the Halfling was trying to seduce the rest of his company, and still resolutely ignoring him.  
Not at all/  
He heard Bombur call out to Bilbo as he walked by. “Burglar, may I suggest-”  
“No.”  
“But-”  
“No.”  
Bombur sulked away, and Thorin had to fight to contain his laughter.

***

“Oh, h-hello. I’ll j-just be going the other way,” Ori stuttered, trying desperately to turn away, but the large bucket of water he was carrying made it difficult. Bilbo steadied it before it fell.  
“Careful there; don’t want you all wet,” he said softly.  
Ori turned, if possible, an even brighter red than he already was. He resolved to sacrifice the water to Bilbo, scurrying away.  
“I don’t want…Not that with…,” he called over his shoulder. “S-Sorry.”  
Bilbo shrugged, chuckling a little.

***

“Don’t even think about it, Hobbit,” Dwalin said as he approached. He stood and glared.  
“Whatever are you speaking of?” Bilbo replied innocently.  
“You know exactly what I speak of,” Dwalin growled back. “If you think I’m going to agree to your little offer, then you’re sadly mistaken.”  
Bilbo squared his shoulders, still with his trademark smirk. “And why is that?”  
“Because,” Dwalin sneered, now very close to his face. “I like things…rough. Too rough for the likes of you.”  
“I’m willing to bet the opposite.”  
“Fool,” he spat, turning swiftly and leaving before his anger got the better of him and they were left without a burglar. Somehow he doubted that would go over well with Thorin.

***

“Hello lad,” Balin said. He had seen Bilbo approaching from a way off. “The answer is no, I’ll tell you that much. But I wouldn’t mind having a nice chat.”  
Bilbo shrugged and sat down. “Why not? Didn’t figure I’d get far with you anyway.”  
Balin chuckled, smoke from his pipe making rings around his head. “Share, if you will. Why are you making it a personal mission to have relations with dwarves?”  
He shrugged again. “I do the same thing at home. Why not here?”  
Balin looked at him curiously. “I can’t say I’ve been in the company of many Hobbits, besides you of course. Is this the custom of your land?”  
He laughed a little. “No, not at all. They didn’t take kindly to my advances. That’s part of the reasons I was I was such a loner at in the Shire. Not that I minded; they’re quite a boring people.”  
Balin inhaled deeply. “Boring, maybe. But carefree. Not a trouble in the world past the next meal time. Do you not wish to be like them?”  
“Sometimes, and I was for a little while. But it gets repetitive after a time. I like dwarves. They’re…,” he thought a moment, searching for the right phrase. “They don’t sit idly by and let things happen, such as Hobbits would. They take back what’s theirs; get things done.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “I like that.”   
Balin rose, chuckling. “Best not push your luck, laddie. But I believe I know of one who wouldn’t refuse.”  
He started back towards camp, leaving Bilbo wondering what he had meant, though he thought he had an idea.

***

“I do believe I know your name by now,” Bofur hummed, smiling. “Something I can help you with?”  
“That’s a nice clarinet you have there,” Bilbo replied.  
“Is, isn’t it? Made it myself, a long time ago. Still works good as new.”  
“May I play your clarinet?”  
“I suppose,” he made to hand it over, but the Hobbit shook his head.  
“No,” he smirked. “Not that clarinet.”   
Bofur looked confused for a moment. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “Oh, you mean… Well, I don’t see any harm in it. In fact, I’ve been waiting. Lead the way.”

***

“Be careful where you step next time,” Oin said as he finished tending Bilbo’s wound. Nothing life threatening, he’d only tripped on the way down a hill and cut his knee.  
“Oh, it’s nothing too bad,” Bilbo said jovially, but he winced nonetheless. “May I ask what you put on the cut; herb-lore has always interested me.”  
Oin looked up, vaguely suspicious. “It’s a mixture of a few things. A secret of mine of which I am not willing to share.”   
Bilbo leaned forward, quirking his eyebrows. “I think you could share it with me. You could share a lot with me.”  
Oin glared back at him. “I will not succumb to what you seem to believe is charm.”  
Bilbo laughed. “Oh, honey; it’s better than charm.”  
But Oin was already too far away to hear.

***

“Not to be disagreeing with Thorin or anything, but I don’t think this is the best route to take. There’s a better way to Erebor if we follow the river. And don’t you be trying any of your tricks on me,” Gloin added as an afterthought. “I’ve got a wife and son back home, and I intend to stay loyal to them.” He crossed his arms in defiance.  
“I suspected the same,” Bilbo said with a raised hand. “I admire someone with so much loyalty. But if you’re certain…”  
“Of course I’m certain!” Gloin barked. “There’s many a thing I’d rather do than have relations with a Hobbit.”  
He too left Bilbo before he could answer. He chuckled to himself. Dwarves were much more of a challenge than he’d expected.

***

“What exactly makes you think I’ve forgotten your name? I may be old, but I have an exceptional memory,” Gandalf said with a look.  
“Yes, yes; I know. You’re very old aren’t you?”  
“I am,” Gandalf hummed. “I’m well over one thousand.”  
“I bet it’s been a while.”  
The wizard raised an eyebrow, and laid a hand atop Bilbo’s head. “Have you been smoking my pipe?”  
“No, but I could if you want.”  
Gandalf shook his head angrily, but his eyes were sparkling. “The answer is still no; just like the time we first met, and the time after that, and the time after that.”  
“Fine, but it would loosen the stick from your ass.”

***

Thorin was appalled that they had to stay in Rivendell, even if it was just for a short time. The thought of sleeping in a place full of Elves made him sick. But there was no other choice; they needed food and shelter.  
He was resolutely ignoring the fact that the Halfling had swept through his entire company in such a short time, and had somehow over looked him. Thorin Oakenshield. King Under the fucking Mountain.  
But it wasn’t as if he was bitter.  
And now, sweet Mahal above, he was asking Lord Elrond how to read id grandfather’s map while trying very hard to remember that he was a king, and a Hobbit from the Shire would not make a fitting Queen.  
After the Elf had finished translating, he had to overcome the urge to bang his head against the stone. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy?  
Across the hall, he could hear Bilbo start to work on that tree hugger Elf. At least that’s all Thorin hoped he did with trees. There were some pretty strange rumors about the woodland king and his elk.  
“Ah, hello Halfling. I’ve been meaning to ask your name. I can see you’re quite different from the rest of your people.”  
Bilbo wiggled his eyebrows. “You have no idea.”  
The Elf stared. “Yes. Well. I hope your stay here is to your liking.” He turned to leave.  
“I know a way to make it better.”  
Elrond looked mildly disturbed.. Eventually Bilbo gave up and went to Thorin, who quickly tried to act like he hadn’t been listening.  
“Can I see that?” Bilbo asked, reaching for the map.  
Thorin jerked it away. “You may not handle the map of Erebor,” he snapped.  
“And why not?”  
“Because you touch yourself at night.”  
Bilbo shrugged. “Guilty.”  
Now the tree hugger definitely looked disturbed. 

***

The Hobbit had never seen a Goblin before. Needless to say, he was not impressed.  
Zero out of ten; would not bang.  
Separated from the rest of the company, he was now wondering some dark cavern far below the mountain, idly fingering the ring in his pocket. Then, seemingly materializing from thin air, there was a strange creature in front of his, hunched over, with bulbous eyes.  
“What’s this, precious?” it hissed in a barely discernable voice. It poked and prodded at him. “Not a Goblin, precious, no. We know Goblinses. What is it, what is it?”  
“My name is Bilbo Baggins,” he said confidently. “And who are you?”  
But the creature didn’t seen to be listening. “What is a Bagginses, precious? Does it taste good?”  
“I taste very good, thank you very much. Just ask Fili. Now would you please show me the way out?”  
The creature smiled, showing it’s pointed teeth. “No, precious.” It’s smile got even wider. “A game of riddles. If Baggins wins, we shows it the way out.”  
“And what if I loose?”  
“If Bagginses looses, we eats it whole.”  
“Oh, that’s what you want is it? Well, I suppose if those are your terms…”  
After a rather intense game, he managed to trick the creature by asking what was in his pocket. It was the ring of course, and after discovering it was magic, he used it to find his way back to the company.

***

Azog was alive.  
It could not be true.   
But the hulking white Orc was standing right in front of him, amidst the flames. The one he thought he had killed to avenge his kin was still living. And he was laughing.  
Thorin saw red, and acted rashly, as no self respecting king should. Then everything went black.

***

The Halfling.  
Where was Bilbo?  
He could vaguely comprehend they were on a rock ledge, though how they got there he didn’t know. He tried to speak, his voice cracking.  
Gandalf reassured him. “It’s alright; Bilbo is here.”  
Thorin struggled up. “What were you thinking?” he yelled. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”  
“I-” Bilbo started.  
“Did I not say you were weak? That you had no place amongst us?”  
For once the Hobbit’s eyes were downcast, and he wasn’t speaking.  
“I’ve never been so wrong in all my life,” he said, enveloping the smaller man in a hug. Bilbo returned it.  
Maybe he did have a shot.  
A little while later, after they had settled in for the night, Thorin went searching for Bilbo, determined to finally claim what was his. He found him alone with the one pony that had made it this far. Mahal knows how she kept up.  
“Good girl, Minty,” Bilbo whispered as he fed her an apple. “That’s a cute little tongue you got there. Bet you know how to use it.”  
“Oh, sweet Durin,” Thorin said, and practically flung himself on the ground. This was hopeless.  
“Thorin?” Bilbo called upon hearing him. When they finally came face to face, Thorin stood, growling.  
“Why? Why everyone we meet except for me? I’m a thousand times better than those dunderheads.”  
Bilbo raised his hands in defense. ’Haven’t you ever heard of saving the best for last? I think Balin was right about you.”  
Thorin scowled. “Meddling old Dwarf. Now come, we have things to attend to.”


End file.
